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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28303776">Levicorpus</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/test_kard_girl/pseuds/test_kard_girl'>test_kard_girl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dobby's alive, Drarry, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Grumpy Draco Malfoy, Harry just wants everyone to chill, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Post-War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:42:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28303776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/test_kard_girl/pseuds/test_kard_girl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas! Harry and Draco are trying to have a nice Christmas Eve together, but not everyone got the memo. Have some daft Drarry fluff! </p><p>Spoiler: contains a few Christmas miracles...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Levicorpus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">It had been a pretty miraculous night, all in all. The best Christmas Eve-Eve Harry had had in years, really, between one Voldemort-inspired fuckover and another. So it was probably inevitable, then, that he didn't get the languorous morning of cuddly, uncoordinated necking with his boyfriend, hot chocolate and presents by the fire he wanted. Instead, Harry's awakened at the arse-crack of festive dawn by what can only be described as a <em>yelp</em> of terror and a sudden blast of wintery air as his bed covers are catapulted across the room to flump dejectedly against the Gryffindor tower window.</p><p class="western">Fearing the worst<em>—</em><em>Ron's come back early—</em>Harry scrabbles for his wand, for his glasses... But he doesn't need his glasses to spot Draco, suddenly suspended two feet above the bed and swiping uselessly at whatever invisible thing seems to have hoiked him up there by his ear.</p><p class="western">Harry ducks a flapping arm: 'Draco! What the h<em>—</em>?'</p><p class="western">'<em>—</em><em>What did you do</em>, what the <em>fuck</em> is happening, get me the <em>fuck</em> down from here!!' Draco is hollering, with characteristic gravitas.</p><p class="western">'<em>Me</em>? I didn't- why would I<em>—</em>?!' scowling, Harry finally get his glasses up his nose and his bleary, sleep-encrusted eyes land on two much larger, rounder ones peering up at him from the bedroom floor. Two much larger, rounder eyes he hasn't seen in a long time.</p><p class="western">His mouth drops open:</p><p class="western">'<em>—</em><em>Dobby</em>!?'</p><p class="western">'Harry Potter!' The house elf's voice is as high-pitched and effusive as ever. 'What an indescribable honour it is to see you again!'</p><p class="western">He looks just as Harry remembers him: small and endearing, huge excited eyes and long pointed nose<em>—</em>and without Bellatrix's dagger embedded in his chest, which has got to be a bonus. He's still wearing a bizarre assortment of clothes and kitchen fabrics but, it's fair to say, he seems to be getting a better grip on the co-ordination thing. The shiny, embroidered waistcoat he has draped around his shoulders very nearly matches one of the six (Harry counts) socks he's wearing on his shoe-less feet.</p><p class="western">Momentarily distracted from his levitating boyfriend, Harry throws himself to the end of his bed and holds out a hand for the house-elf to shake.</p><p class="western">'Dobby, you're- you're better! Oh it's so good to see you!'</p><p class="western">'Oh you're <em>joking</em> me...' Draco mutters from the ceiling.</p><p class="western">The house-elf grips Harry's fingers tightly with his own and shakes until his heels come off the carpet a little. 'Dobby has recovered much since Harry Potter last saw Dobby at Shell Cottage. Bill Wheezy and Floor Delcoor took such good care of us, Harry Potter<em>—</em>'</p><p class="western">'<em>—</em>I'm-I'm glad to hear it<em>—</em>'</p><p class="western">'-<em>—</em>No more internal bleeding and only minimal scarring!' The house-elf proudly tugs back the front of his waistcoat to reveal only a thread-thin crescent of pale scar tissue bisecting his chest. Harry pauses, trying to think of something to say that isn't 'congratulations'.</p><p class="western">'<em>—</em>But it seems Dobby has arrived back at Hogwarts just in time!' Dobby continues dramatically, his already huge eyes flaring to almost planetary proportions before nimbly scaling Harry's bedpost and lifting an accusatory finger towards Draco, still swearing furiously above their heads. 'Dobby has returned to Hogwarts for Christmas and to congratulate Harry Potter on his magnificent defeat of the Dark Lord<em>—</em>but it seems Harry Potter has let his guard down now the Voldemort is vanquished! <em>Harry Potter is allowing Death Eaters to infiltrate his bedroom</em>!'</p><p class="western">Harry blinks. Lifts a hand to his head. 'Oh, Dobby, no<em>—</em>'</p><p class="western">'<em>—</em>Dobby is glad he arrived before Harry Potter suffered some deathly injury<em>—</em>worse than a dagger to the chest, Harry Pott<em>—</em>'</p><p class="western">'<em>—</em>I was <em>asleep</em> you ragged little vigilante--<em>Ow—</em>!' Draco throws an arm out to protect himself from the barrage of rolled up socks that unexpectedly come pelting at his face. The sudden movement makes him spin lazily in the air.</p><p class="western">'No, Dobby, it's- it's fine, it's<em>—</em>' Harry tries again, as he does his best Keeper impression to try and deflect some of the socks. 'I-I wanted him here. We're...Friends now. It's<em>—</em>' despite everything, he can feel himself flushing. It's weird explaining his love-life to Dobby. 'He's- he's my boyfriend. We were. We were...Asleep together.'</p><p class="western">Draco's <em>'I fucking hate you.'</em> rings dully in the sudden, gaping silence.</p><p class="western">The house-elf tilts his head at Harry with great suspicion.</p><p class="western">'...Dobby doesn't question the great charity and benevolence of Harry Potter.' He says eventually, in a voice that is, actually, very bloody questioning. He steps down from the bedpost onto the mattress; spares a withering glance for Draco's floating form. 'But Dobby served the Malfoy family for many, many years. Young Master Malfoy is a bad boy.'</p><p class="western">'No, he is that.' Harry agrees with a straight face and ducks as Draco flails a foot at him:</p><p class="western">'You're not helping!'</p><p class="western">'Young Master Malfoy treated Dobby very poorly during his time at Malfoy Manner.' Dobby continues ominously. 'Dobby remembers many times having his toes trod upon, his ears tied together as he slept, sir. Dobby remembers young Master Malfoy using Dobby as a Quaffle, Harry Potter.'</p><p class="western">Harry turns reproachful eyes on his boyfriend. Draco, who finally seems to have stopped rotating, makes a face at him: 'Oh give over, I was <em>seven</em>.'</p><p class="western">Harry grabs his foot and sets him spinning again.</p><p class="western">'<em>Oi</em>!'</p><p class="western">'Dobby. Could you<em>—</em>?' He waves a hand at Draco. 'He's not gonna hurt me<em>—</em>'</p><p class="western">'<em>—</em><em>Don't be so sure—</em>'</p><p class="western">'<em>—</em>Could you let him down?'</p><p class="western">Dobby looks at him for a moment. Then<em>—</em> Draco swears as he drops two feet back to the mattress, bounces against the edge and lands with an unceremonious thump on the floor.</p><p class="western">Harry grins.</p><p class="western">'Thanks Dobby.'</p><p class="western">Harry swings himself out of bed<em>—</em>desperately glad he decided to put his clothes back on at some point during the night<em>—</em>as Draco climbs back to his feet. He grabs his wrist: 'You okay?'</p><p class="western">Draco glowers. 'Good thing I don't have much pride left to bruise, Potter.' He swipes his hair out of his face. 'What's <em>that</em> doing here?' He waves dismissively at Dobby and Harry smacks him smartly across the shoulder. 'Don't be a dick. That's a he, and he's my friend, and your lunatic aunt almost killed him.'</p><p class="western">Draco makes a face, then cowers a bit as Dobby stalks across the rumpled sheets towards them.</p><p class="western">'Dobby, really, it's fine.' Harry says again, enormously amused at this unexpected standoff. 'We- thankyou for checking I'm okay, but I want Draco here. We're-we've-worked through alot of stuff. We were having Christmas Eve together before I go to the Wheez- the Weasleys.'</p><p class="western">For some bizarre reason, Harry's face is hot. He blames the dormitory fire, which (he now notices) has been freshly stoked and the mantlepiece garlanded in holly.</p><p class="western">Dobby still looks unconvinced. He glances between the two of them, as if expecting a punchline.</p><p class="western">'Young Master Malfoy has a long history with Harry Potter.' He declaims darkly, eventually, narrowing his eyes. Harry glances at Draco, who is rubbing his elbow and attempting to hold the house-elf's accusatory glare.</p><p class="western">'Everybody knows this. Shut up Dobby.'</p><p class="western">Dobby ignores him<em>—</em>although Harry thinks he sees his eye twitch, like it pains him a little.</p><p class="western">'Many Christmases ago, Dobby remembers much fury and swearing of vengeance in the Malfoy house. Young master Malfoy moaning Harry Potter's name at night before he slept<em>—</em>'</p><p class="western">Harry lifts his eyebrows. Turns his head.</p><p class="western">'<em>About</em>.' Draco corrects quickly, although his cheeks are pinking. 'Moaning <em>about</em>.'</p><p class="western">Dobby looks at him with an expression which on anyone else might be considered ironic.</p><p class="western">'Young master Malfoy should also remember Dobby was responsible for washing of the linin in the Malfoy hou<em>—</em>'</p><p class="western">Harry's just in time to catch Draco around the waist as he snarls and dives for Dobby's ears, holding him back as there's another loud crack of magic and the two of them are suddenly being attacked by the flailing curtains of Harry's four-poster.</p><p class="western">'Dobby, come on! <em>Dobby</em>! Have I ever lied to you?!' Harry bellows, over the whip-snap of the curtains, and is very glad no-one else is in the tower because there is no way any of this would go unnoticed. 'I want Draco here, he's not attacking me, <em>you're attacking me</em>!'</p><p class="western">With a whimpering flap, the bed curtains desist.</p><p class="western">Draco wrenches himself out of Harry's grip. 'This is why you don't free house-elves!' he rages, but Harry just raises warning eyebrows at him.</p><p class="western">'Dobby is sorry Harry Potter!' The house-elf's plaintive voices carries, and Harry casts wildly around till he finds Dobby again, now standing on the armchair crammed into the corner beside the door. He looks wretched. 'Dobby would never hurt Harry Potter on purpose<em>—</em>'</p><p class="western">'<em>—</em>Dobby, it's-it's fine,' Harry says, charitably repressing memories of the entirety of second year. 'I just, I understand. Thankyou for being my friend, and looking out for me.'</p><p class="western">Dobby meets his gaze with wet eyes: 'Dobby will always be Harry Potter's friend.'</p><p class="western">Draco rolls his eyes so hard it's audible.</p><p class="western">'<em>—</em>I know, I know you are, Dobby.' Harry says 'And I know there's alot<em>—</em>' He glances between the house-elf and his boyfriend. 'of...history...Between you two. But. Draco's my friend and you're my friend. Do you think you could...Try to be nice to him?'</p><p class="western">At his ear, Draco makes an incredulous noise. Harry elbows him in the stomach. Dobby looks torn.</p><p class="western">'But Harry Potter...'</p><p class="western">'<em>Dobby</em>.'</p><p class="western">Dobby looks at Harry. Then, slowly, he turns his big eyes on Draco. Pulls off one of his socks<em>—</em>it's thickly woven and a garish shade of orange and Harry thinks he recognises Mrs Weasley's style<em>—</em>and holds it out towards Draco's middle.</p><p class="western">Harry feels Draco flinch. 'What's he doing?'</p><p class="western">'Oh... I think he's freeing you, love.' Harry says mildly. 'Y'know. From his ire.' Draco turns burning eyes on him<em>—</em>which could be to do with Dobby or just the endearment. Harry keeps trying out new names to see which annoys him the most. 'Should probably accept that. If you don't want to be...Hanging upside down again.'</p><p class="western">He smiles blithely, watching ten kinds of fury shutter across Draco's face. Then<em>—</em>very woodenly<em>—</em>-Draco reaches down and plucks the bright, slightly damp sock from Dobby's knobbly fingers.</p><p class="western">'Merry Christmas master Malfoy.' The house elf says tightly.</p><p class="western">Harry prods Draco in the side.</p><p class="western">'Merry Christmas. Dobby.' He replies, and looks very much like he could eat Dobby in place of the Christmas turkey.</p><p class="western">Harry thinks he's almost giving himself a hernia trying not to laugh.</p><p class="western">'But Dobby.' He says, pushing a hand back through his hair. Now the drama's over and everyone has their feet back on a solid surface, he notices how dark it still is outside, snow glittering at the window. 'Why are you in my dormitory in the middle of the night, anyway?'</p><p class="western">'Yes, <em>why</em>, Dobby?' Draco echoes. 'Bit invasive<em>—</em>' But luckily, this time, Dobby doesn't seem to hear him.</p><p class="western">'Dobby is helping the Hogwarts elves with Christmas decorations!' He replies instead, brightening, although his long nose is still glistening with emotion. 'Last year Headmaster Snape forbade Christmas celebrations and the House Elves were confined to the kitchens with threats of being used for target practice, Harry Potter. This year, with the Dark Lord so very, utterly defeated and Harry Potter back at Hogwarts, Dobby wanted the castle to look its very very best!'</p><p class="western">Harry swallows. He hadn't really thought of what Christmas in the castle last year must've been like. At the time he was a bit distracted by a slithery Horcrux masquerading as a decrepit historian.</p><p class="western">'Dobby. That's brilliant, I can't wait to see it.' He says warmly and Dobby grins his brightest grin yet:</p><p class="western">'Harry Potter... Draco Malfoy... Come and see.' He says, gesturing towards the stairwell.</p><p class="western">When they get to the bottom, Harry stops dead and Draco ploughs into the back of him:</p><p class="western">'<em>Potter.</em>'</p><p class="western">'<em>Malfoy</em>.' Harry returns delightedly, and elbows him in the arm.</p><p class="western">The common room looks better than it ever has. Or maybe it's just been a long time since Harry last really enjoyed a Christmas. Everything is glistening. Great wreaths of holly and ivy garland the fireplace, the doors, the picture frames. The fire itself already has chestnuts roasting over it, alongside a great vat of hot chocolate, warming nicely and giving off a delicious aroma of the very best of Honeydukes' chocolate. In the corner, a huge Christmas tree looms upwards like the centrepiece of a massive snow globe, laden down with hundreds of frosted pine-cones and bells, bundles of cinnamon sticks and bright satsumas, tiny golden lights flickering between the branches like fireflies and caught in its own lazy, localised snowfall. Above them, hugely magnified snowflakes, glistening and translucent, shimmer and twist like stars against the dark ceiling.</p><p class="western">From the carpet, Dobby grins up at them before trotting off to continue his work. Harry grins hopelessly after him, feeling all of eleven years old.</p><p class="western">'Well.' Draco says eventually. 'This is garish.' But Harry's prepared to blame his bruised ego and bruised tailbone for his lack of Christmas spirit. He passes a hand over his sleepy eyes, pushing his glasses up his forehead.</p><p class="western">'Oh what, Slytherins don't do Christmas?'</p><p class="western">'Oh no we do.' Draco replies lightly. He takes a step across to draw a careful finger through the drift of snow on the back of the couch. 'But just the usual stuff. Spiking the mulled wine. Christmas tree arson. Picking a first year to spit roast.' But all the same, he looks cautiously enamoured by everything sparkling, the golden ivy twining its way around the chandelier.</p><p class="western">The hot chocolate smells amazing. Harry reaches for his boyfriend's hand; presses close to rest his chin momentarily on the back of his shoulder.</p><p class="western">'Merry Christmas.' He says quietly, into his pyjama t-shirt. And Draco glances at the floor but Harry feels him squeeze his fingers back, tightly. He doesn't let go for a long minute.</p><p class="western">'Merry Christmas Harry.'</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Merry Christmas lovelies, thanks for reading! Always &lt;3 to hear your comments.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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